


Never Too Late

by Kiss_of_Death



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:44:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiss_of_Death/pseuds/Kiss_of_Death
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a sunny morning when Jackson, Stiles, and Danny said their goodbyes before starting their drive to Stanford and begin college. | A Whittemore family interlude.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Too Late

**Disclaimer:**  'Teen Wolf' belongs to Jeff Davis and MTV. No copyright infringement intended.  
 **Rating/Word Count:** K+ | 1,222  
 **Author's Note:** Happy Mother's Day!

 

**xoxo**

_“Mr. Whittemore, maybe I’m missing something, but this doesn’t exactly spell foul play.”_

_“It reads: ‘Stayed at friend’s house last night. Everything fine. Love you.’ Now, while we’re as close as any family can be, there are certain things Jackson has not been able to say since the day we told him he was adopted.”_

_“Things like what?”_

**_“Jackson never says ‘I love you.’”_ **

_“Never?”_

_“Not once in 11 years.”_

_(Teen Wolf, 2x06 Frenemy)_

**xoxo**

It was a sunny morning when Jackson, Stiles, and Danny said their goodbyes before starting their drive to Stanford and begin college.

Jackson and Danny had driven Lydia to Boston last week – she was already settled in at MIT.

And last night, the rest of the pack had a little goodbye party. The others were leaving tomorrow, together. Scott, Allison, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd were renting a house for school. The pack was split in four, with Derek and Peter remaining in Beacon Hills.

So today was just family. Stiles and the sheriff and Danny, his parents, and his little sister were at the Whittemore's. Stiles and Danny were taking their cars; Jackson's Porsche was staying with his parents. All of the boys' college gear was packed away in the two cars and everyone was saying their farewells. Derek, too, came to see his packmates off – to make sure Jackson would be okay away from his alpha and to kiss Stiles off; it would be a few weeks before Derek would make his way to Stanford to see his boyfriend and his beta.

Jackson took a deep breath as his father enveloped him in a tight hug. This wasn't something they did too often –  _men_  – but Jackson wanted to take one last piece of home before he'd return for Thanksgiving.

Ever since State sophomore year, Jackson stopped fighting his parents' love. After nearly dying, his parents realized that the way they had been showing their love to their son was not the most effective way to show affection. Giving him a Porsche at 16, letting him do what he pleased, giving him unlimited funds, letting his girlfriend stay over or stay at her place – it only fueled his obsessive need to be perfect, to prove to them that he was worthy of their affection, worthy to be a part of the Whittemore family.

So, instead, they had more family sit down dinners – especially during lacrosse and swimming off seasons. And when David was working late on a case, Mrs. Whittemore still made sure she and her son ate together.

They even watched movies or television together. His parents tried to come to even more swim meets and lacrosse games than before – though Jackson put his foot down on away trips because he was captain, dammit; he didn't need his mother looming over him while he was out with his friends.

(Granted, they still did let Lydia spend the night and let Jackson stay with her, but they loved the girl and knew that she understood their son like they couldn't; she grounded him – some might even say she was his anchor.)

But Jackson was their one and only chance with a child, ever since Mrs. Whittemore's hysterectomy at age 20.

So, yes, she coddled him more. But the best part was how receptive he was instead of pushing her away. She realized they should have done  _more_  of this type of parenting 10 years ago instead of spoiling him. He needed to feel real love, not be compensated for being a good boy.

After a minute in the hug and without Jackson pulling away, David loosened his grip and their eyes met. "Take care of yourself. Don't study too hard; have fun. If you get into any kind of trouble – school work or worse – call. I'm more than happy to help you out."

And he was so proud that Jackson took an interest in law. For the past three summers, the kid had interned at David's firm. Jackson was a natural. Charismatic. Thoughtful. Damn good at catching lies. And even slightly empathetic with clients and victims when he was helping at the DA's office – David wondered if that had to do with whatever friendship had forged between Jackson and Isaac Lahey.

Jackson nodded. "Thanks." They finally let go of each other and David kissed his son's forehead. "Love you, son." Jackson gave a slight nod in acknowledgement.

Next was Mrs. Whittemore's turn. She wrapped him up tightly. She refused to let the tears come out now. She wanted to at least wait until the boys were in the car. "Be safe," she whispered in his ear. "Give me your address when you get in."

"Sending me cookies like lacrosse camp?"

" _Yes_." Because thinking of him being away like he was just at camp was much more doable then remembering he was an adult and off to college.

"I'll be fine. It's Stanford."

"I know. I miss you already. I love you," her voice cracked. He was still her baby. College boy be damned.

He kissed her cheek. "Mom…" he put his head in her neck and took a deep breath, to remember her scent. "I love you." Then he pulled away and walked to the cars, refusing to look back at her; trying to close his senses off to her reaction. He could smell the salt of her tears. He was  _not_  going to cry on his way to college.

Jackson caught Derek's eyes and they shared a respectful nod. They were more alike than either was ever willing to admit. And Jackson knew his alpha heard what just happened. Jackson grew a lot since becoming a werewolf and joining Derek's pack, had learned to open up more and accept people instead of staying closed off. He had grown especially close to Stiles and Erica, had settled on much friendlier terms with Isaac, and was always okay to just sit and study quietly with Boyd. (Though they all knew that Jackson would never be actual friends with Scott. No one tried to get them to bond.)

The three boys hovered next to the cars with their families a few feet opposite them. But before they got into the cars and left, Derek spoke with a smirk. "Danny, you're in charge."

"Hey, wait a second!" Stiles huffed, glaring at his boyfriend.

The sheriff chuckled. "I'm with Derek on this one, Kid. Someone's gotta keep you out of trouble."

"That's rude. It's college. I've grown up, you know. I'm a big boy now."

Jackson rolled his eyes. "I'm riding with Danny. Have fun talking to yourself."

Stiles turned his head toward him and pulled his cell phone out. "That's what these things are for."

"Not if no one answers."

"How you gonna like it when I blast my Spice Girls albums, wolf boy?" he muttered quietly.

Before Jackson could retort back, Danny smacked his head against his car. "I make no promises," he said loudly to the adults (the real ones, not the college ones). "I may abandon them for better friends and let them fend for themselves the minute we settle in."

"Fair enough," the sheriff nodded in understanding.

"Hey! You're not supposed to agree, Dad!"

"I'm leaving," Danny said, exasperated.

They all said another round of goodbyes as the boys settled into the cars.

Danny hooked up his iPod and started his playlist as he pulled out of the Whittemore's driveway.

Jackson finally looked back at his parents, his mother crying into his father's arms. He knew he'd done the best thing by finally telling her how he felt. He always had loved them, but it was just difficult to get the words out. And even though he was leaving, he knew that they deserved to know. Thirteen years was long enough.

**.end.**


End file.
